marcie fleach

“But I CAN’T make up for what I’ve done, don’t you understand? I can’t bring back the people I’ve killed. I can’t heal the people I’ve hurt. I can’t undo the damage I’ve wrought. One lifetime is not enough to properly repent for my sins, so why bother living? Maybe N-N-N-N… he… should have just killed me. I don’t deserve to live for what I’ve done. He said he would take everything from me, every sensation I can enjoy, every thought and feeling that makes me who I am, my hopes and dreams. He was right, it took it all, but he let me keep me life. I wish he hadn’t. I don’t deserve it.”

We eventually pried ourselves out of bed, performing a much-needed changing of the sheets and then trooping into the bathroom together, taking care of the necessaries and enjoying a soft, playful shower. It was a little bit crowded, with all three of us in there at once, but I loved every moment of it, and we only came out again once we ran out of hot water and Mom and I had started to shiver from the cold. We dried each other off, snuggling and warming up, then climbed into bed, Mom insisting I take the middle.

Falco slammed his fists together. “Heavy Water!” Moisture was gathered from the air and formed two liquid spheres, immersing his hands. Noah had seen him use this technique in earlier matches. Despite being made of water, the two spheres were hard as rock, and their added weight made his punches stronger, but that wasn’t all. Along with strong offense, the orbs provided good defense, acting as both shields and catcher’s mitts for enemy attacks. It was a simple technique, but quite potent.